September 20, 2010




Nancy Briskay Cornell Lipsius

     The following post was written by my late mother. 

     For me, the word friendship is synonymous with the name Edith.

     Twenty-three years ago I met Edith quite by chance at a Sunday school picnic. Both of us were accompanied by our children—Edith’s three girls, the oldest about twelve and the youngest about seven—and my four, the oldest a girl of five and the youngest a girl almost two.

     I suspect neither of us really remembers what drew us into conversation but, suddenly, there we were, bursting with an eager exchange of ideas, both of us basking in the opportunity to engage in adult conversation. That was the beginning. Although we did not see each other very often in the ensuing months, we were drawn together occasionally at worship services and church activities, through which we developed a genuine liking for one another. Still, with both of us working full time and raising our families there remained little time for socializing and so the development of our relationship was put on hold.

     One needs to know a bit about both of us to understand the need we had for one another’s company, how our personalities blended and complemented each other, as well as the differences that drew us together.


     Edith is a solid citizen, both feet on the ground, faces reality head on: I am a dreamer, an idealist with a tendency to, at times, back off from reality. At the time I met Edith she seemed painfully shy, projected little self-confidence, felt comfortable blending into the background, and almost successfully covered up her leadership qualities. I, on the other hand, athough somewhat shy, am a bit more (more…)


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